


Hope

by KindZouzou



Series: A Terrible Mother [2]
Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Children, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Philosophical Discussion, Pregnancy, Teaching, if you prefer the sad ending of part one don't read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 18:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18900610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KindZouzou/pseuds/KindZouzou
Summary: Some time later....





	Hope

** "Who can explain to me the difference between right and wrong?" **

 

The friendly chatter of the class stops when I walk into the room and ask my question before I even take off my jacket and put my things down. 

I'm not looking to see if any of the twenty-four teenagers present raised their hands to answer and turned to the big board behind me to write my question in chalk. The white words stand out against the black background and challenge the students. This is not an insignificant question. Everyone knows what it can bring up. All of them have learned and know by heart the history of their parents, and of their parents and grandparents before them. In Sanctum, history is taught from Becca Pramheda and the First Apocalypse to the colonization of Alpha by the last Earthlings.

 

A shy hand has risen when I finally turn around and I smile gently before cheering:

** "Yes, Amber?" **

** "Good is what we do to make the world a better place and people happier?" **

 

The answer is as shy as the hand was raised and some giggling is coming from the back of my class. I stared at them with a dark look and laughter died immediately, blown away by the icy glare of my inquisitive eyes.

** "Zeke?" **

The young boy swallows his sarcasm but not his smile before throwing, the voice full of arrogance that I recognize only too well to have experienced it at first-hand: 

** "There is no answer, sir. Good and evil are relative. It's all a matter of point of view." **

Despite his insolence, the student shines in class with his intelligence and logic. 

** "Anyone else agrees with that?" **

A myriad of hands rise and my smile grows in front of so much enthusiasm.

** "Good. Who can give me a concrete example? Rebecca?" **

The girl with long black hair clears her voice before answering:

** "When Becca Pramheda created the number one version of ALIE, she did so in the belief that she was doing humanity a service. She had no idea that her creation would bring about the end of the world." **

I agree, then ask:

** "Yes. Who can give me the year of Praimfaya 1?" **

** "2052, sir," a voice is raised in the classroom. **

** "That's right. Any other examples? David?" **

** "The men of the mountains at Mount Weather only wanted to save their people and return to the surface." **

This time, I can't help but flinch. My jaw is tightening. Nevertheless, I nod to agree with my student and ask:

** "Who knows the time of the attack on Mount Weather?" **

The students whisper and mutter. By the time one of them answers, I had refocused and regained control over my emotions.

** "Winter 2149, sir." **

** "That's right. Can you give me the name of the president under the mountain?" **

** "It was Dante Wallace. Replaced by his son Cage Wallace. It was the latter who gave the order to capture the survivors of the Ark in order to extract their bone marrow, even if this operation would mean the end of them all." **

** "That's right, Maya. I see you've studied Mount Weather well." **

** "I wanted to know the origin of my first name, sir. And understand why my parents chose to give it to me." **

I can only agree and understand the reason for her curiosity. I try to satisfy it as best I can and keep it concise.

** "Maya Vie was one of the first residents of Mount Weather to question the choices of her government, to fight against the authority in place, to organize the rebellion. Skaikru, at the time, owes her a lot, you can be proud to bear her first name." **

The girl smiles and I continue:

"Are there only bad people, and others good? Or is all this just subjective? Becca thought she was doing the right thing, she caused the wrong one. The Wallaces believed they were the good guys, but didn't hesitate to act against morality to save their people. In the end, don't we all have a valid reason to do what we do?"

** "That's what I was saying," Zeke replied, repeating his words from earlier, "It's relative and subjective. Each side has its reasons and each side thinks its reasons are the right ones." **

** "So how would we react in a situation where it' s about killing or being killed? To save the people you love, but to condemn others?" **

** "I know I will do everything I can to save my family." **

I turn to the blond head who just spoke in the front row and smile affectionately.

** "And that's how many have justified the nature of their actions, Ethan. Some came out of it infamous, others became heroes." **

** "Like Wanheda." **

At this mention, a deathly silence invades the room. I know that every child is now waiting for my reaction, but I simply smile at the rightness of this answer, although I feel the sadness darkening my features. I put a hand through my brown curls before asking:

** "Which one of you can tell me about the great Wanheda?" **

The silence persists and through it, respect, admiration and fear fill the atmosphere of the classroom. However, that' s not all that holds students back. It' s a sensitive subject and most of them don't know how to approach it, don't know how to talk about it without hurting or offending me. 

** "Come on, don't be shy, it's not like we haven't discussed it together before." **

Finally, my eyes are drawn to a brown head in the fourth row - Zeke's table mate - who timidly clears his throat before claiming my attention by raising his hand. 

** "Jake?" **

The boy's blue eyes are piercing and his gaze determined when he launches out:

** "Clarke Griffin was two years older than us when she was first sent to Earth in 2149..." **

Who better to tell the story that made his family famous than Jacob Griffin? He, who had been swayed by Wanheda's exploits since he was a toddler. I let my thoughts drift away while listening to the boy's speech, admiring the way the teenager describes these events so objectively and fairly, yet they touched his family so closely, leaving their mark on them forever. 

At the end of his presentation, he raises his blue eyes to me, seeking my approval and I give it to him without an ounce of hesitation. A unique pride flows from each of my words when I say:

**"That's perfect, Jake."**

Then, I can't help but add, moved: 

** "Your mother would be proud to hear how accurately you talk about these events-" **

** "But I already am," a female voice suddenly stops me. **

I hadn't noticed the silhouette casually leaning against the open door frame of my classroom and, judging by their surprise looks, neither had my students. With a single movement, everyone stood up to greet the newcomer.

** "Hello, Heda." **

She straightens up and moves forward to me. Her long black hair wavers in her back with every step and her blue eyes caress each of the children present - with a softer and warmer touch towards her own son - when she answers:

** "Hello, kids, you can sit down now." **

A glance at the ancestral watch around my wrist tells me that time has flew faster than I thought.

** "Madi? Is it time already? Sorry, I didn't realize-" **

** "It's nothing, little brother," the Commander cuts me off, a smile on her face. I didn't want to interrupt your lesson." **

I can't stop my eyebrows from frowning and I know for a fact that my older sister recognizes this facial expression only too well. It' s the one that usually announces the sentence "I'm not little" that follows the emotional nickname Madi has given me since I was born, twenty-four years ago.

However, in front of my students, I hold back and swallow my pride before pulling myself together and giving them their homework for the next week. 

Taking advantage of the few minutes during which the children write down my instructions in their notebooks, Madi leans towards me before whispering:

** "Thank you." **

** "Thank you?" **

"To keep the story alive. To remain fair and objective. To teach them that in life, not everything can be all black and white."

** "Most of them already know it, I just remind them and ask them to think about it." **

** "Don't be so modest, Blake." **

I smile before adding:

** "Jake is brilliant, Madi. He' ll make a good Commander when his time comes." **

** "I know, yes," replied the young woman, observing her son before turning her attention back to me and stating, "And you, when the time comes, will be the best father this world has ever known." **

To these comforting words that I didn't know I needed, I stifle a laugh before asking:

** "Better than our father?" **

** "Okay, fine, maybe not that good." **

We laugh slowly and I gather my things before heading out of class and throwing:

** "Goodbye, kids, see you next week!" **

** "Goodbye, Mr. Griffin!" **

Before I could slip away, however, Madi put her head in the hallway and called out to me.

**"By the way, Hope asked me to tell you that she was waiting for you at home when you were done."**

I don't have time to ask why. She disappears and closes the door behind her. 

A few weeks ago, I would have stayed to attend the first minutes of her lesson, always finding a new interest in the learning given by the Commander and the wisdom of the Flame, but as Hope was fast approaching the end of her pregnancy, I tried to be as present as possible at her side.

I wouldn't want to miss the birth of our first child. 

Curious and yet worried about my wife and the child she is carrying, I hurry up and cross the streets populated of Sanctum, without paying more attention to the familiar houses and their well-known inhabitants. 

There, the two adjoining buildings where Aunt Octavia and her wife Niylah live on one side and Nathan and Jackson on the other. I know their two children well, went to school at the same time as them and now gives lessons to their own children, as too many of my friends' other children.

Finally, as I like to repeat, Skaikru, Trikru, Wonkru, Spacekru... all these clans have long since disappeared to finally form a single unit: humanity.

I finally got home and climb the two steps that lead me to the porch of our cottage. There, voices stop the movement of my hand on the door handle. Through the open window, the words are distant and faint, but I would recognize the voice anywhere. 

**"What if I'm a terrible mother?" asks Hope, her voice shaking with doubts and worries.**

My heart is tightening under this legitimate and yet so absurd question. The young woman, now 25 years old, has nothing to do with her parents except for her mother's strategic and devastating intelligence and, perhaps, her father's limitless stubbornness. But above all, Charmaine's light eyes and blond hair, and in her being, all the optimism and trust that her mother had in her when she was pregnant with her. 

As I am about to enter to reassure the woman I love, a hand rests on my shoulder and stops me. I turn to meet my father's always warm and sweet irises.

** "Dad-" **

He puts a finger on his own lips to silence me before passing a hand through his wild curls, previously as dark as his eyes are brown, but now grey in some places, white in others. 

So, as at every step of my life, I take the advice of the other Blake, the one from whom I got my first name and who has always been, for me, the best father. 

Bellamy nods and I listen as Hope continues:

** "I'll probably recreate all the horrible patterns I've seen in the past, I-" **

Bellamy increases the reassuring pressure of her hand on my shoulder until finally, another voice rises in the room and finally says the words I'm burning to say.

** "You'll be a great mother, Hope." **

My wife seems reluctant to answer, before finally jumping in and asking the one who, of all the things to say and do, has chosen to comfort her:

** "How can you be so sure? How do you know, Clarke?" **

I can hear the smile in my mother's voice. I visualize it as if I were suddenly in the room with them: bright, luminous and peaceful. Finally, she answers with the confidence that only experience can give:

** "Trust me, I just know it, that's all." **

**Author's Note:**

> That's it, this time it's over for good! I hope you' ll enjoy this sequel and ending. I couldn't possibly bring myself to make Clarke die, but if you don't like this happier ending, you can always pretend it never existed.
> 
> I tried to make the reader believe during the first part of this second chapter that the teacher was Bellamy, and that little Jake was Clarke's famous son, but if you have followed correctly, the teacher is actually Clarke's son (whom I wanted to call Blake, because I like that name and it comes naturally) and the young Jake is finally Madi's son who must be almost 36 at the time of this second part. That makes us a 24-year-old Blake and a 50-year-old Clarke and a 56-year-old Bellamy, ouch. 
> 
> So, did you like it? 
> 
> Tell me everything in the comments!


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